


Addicted

by DrawnToDarkness



Category: Primeval
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 22:59:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrawnToDarkness/pseuds/DrawnToDarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Becker discovers a new addiction but isn't interested in a cure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Addicted

**Author's Note:**

> First posted at ff.net. Slightly edited here.

The first time they slept together, after the convergence, he told himself he'd gotten it out of his system. Of course, it helped that they hadn't actually _slept_ together; they'd had sex, twice, and then he'd dozed off only to wake up and find the other side of his bed was empty, the sheets cool, and realised she'd left without saying goodbye.

When he'd next seen her, she'd smiled at him as usual and acted as though nothing had change between them so he'd happily gone on his way, assuming that that was that and the attraction he felt for the pretty Field Co-ordinator had been well and truly dealt with.

Oh, how wrong he was.

If anything, knowing how her body felt moulded against his, remembering the breathless sighs and little whimpers that had escaped her as well as having the memory of her perfectly prim voice demanding _"fuck, Becker, harder"_ , having the image of her flushed and gasping beneath him (and above him) made it harder – pun fully intended – to separate the Jess Parker he worked with on a daily basis with the Jess Parker he'd spent what he was rapidly coming to realise had been the best night of his life with.

She looked so sweet and innocent at work, sitting at the ADD – okay, yes, she was fond of wearing sinfully short skirts and amazingly high heels – but she still somehow managed to look demure and as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth...

Becker bit back a groan, remembering how talented that mouth actually was when it wasn't busy informing them about anomalies and warning them of potential dangers and difficulties. 

He knew better now. Although he had no doubt her flushes were genuine when he teased her - he'd lost count of how many times he'd made her blush during the night they'd spent together – and he knew she was genuinely easily tongue-tied in his presence, he knew there was another side of her, too.

A passionate, wild, intense, amazing side to her that he was really, really trying his best to forget about.

But it wasn't easy, damn it.

It was the little things she did, things he was sure she wasn't even aware of.

The way she'd bite down on her bottom lip when she was concentrating on something, the line marring her brow begging him to kiss it away. The way she played with her hair when she was mid-conversation, distracting him with memories of how the silken strands had felt tangled around his fingers as he'd kissed her, tasted her, devoured her mouth even. The way she laughed, those generous lips shining with some kind of lip gloss parting. The way she licked her lips to make sure not even the smallest sliver of chocolate escaped her. The way her hips swayed as she walked, the way the clothes she wore – so bright and colourful and undeniably _Jess_ – hinted at the curves and smooth skin he now knew was hidden beneath them.

She was temptation personified and, while he'd always thought of himself as a strong individual able to resist even the most alluring of offers, she was, Becker had come to realise, his one weakness.

His father would have scornfully called her his Achilles heel if he'd still been alive.

Connor, if he knew of Becker's struggles where Jess was concerned, would have called her his Kryptonite... Then would probably have interrogated him regarding his intentions towards the scientist's surrogate little sister.

She was neither Kryptonite or an Achilles heel, as far as Becker was concerned. More of an Achilles heel than Kryptonite if he had to choose. If he remembered his childhood Superman comics rightly, Kryptonite was something the superhero couldn't stand to be around.

With Jessica Parker, it was quite the opposite.

He found himself lingering next to the ADD, finding reasons to stay in Operations when he really should have been spending time in the Armoury or in his office.

He found himself watching her instead of focusing on the tablet in front of him, eyes narrowing every time someone got a little too close.

He found himself biting back a growl – an actual _growl_ \- when someone else, particularly if it was one of his men, managed to make her smile or laugh.

After a particularly difficult day, with an incursion that had put two of his men in the medical bay, one of whom would be out of action for several months, Becker needed something.

He _needed_ Jess.

The adrenaline was beginning to wear off but he still felt both restless and keyed up, pacing the corridors of the ARC like a caged animal until eventually, finally, Matt had taken him to the side and asked what was wrong. 

He had lied, of course, and said it was the anomaly and not the woman whose voice he'd heard in his ear the entire time that was responsible for his situation.

Full of sympathy, Matt had suggested he work off some steam in the gym. Becker had followed the advice and had taken his mood out on three of his men who'd made the mistake of offering to spar with their Captain. Winded and probably a bit humiliated that he'd beaten all of them, it was Simmons' who'd muttered under his breath that Becker needed to get laid on his way to the locker rooms.

Knowing the soldier had probably meant a one night stand with a nameless woman he wouldn't remember come morning hadn't helped, either. When he'd overheard Simmons suggestion, there was only one woman that sprung to mind and he knew – he just _knew_ – that a one night stand wouldn't be enough.

It hadn't been enough, and he doubted it ever would.

She'd gotten into his system, under his skin and in his blood. He wanted her – that was undeniable – but he needed her just as much and that was what he was having the most trouble accepting.

That was why he so vehemently tried to fight it but, ultimately, ended up failing.

It wasn't her fault, exactly, but when she teased him about it much later, after regaining the ability to speak again, he'd tell her that it was.

He'd stayed in the gym, taking his frustrations out on the punching bag until he was sure the locker room would be empty. He'd decided to take a long, cold shower – the benefits of which would mean he could stay under the spray for as long as he liked because a lack of hot water was exactly what he wanted – and then head home. 

Alone. 

If he happened to dream about her, well, that was fine, but he wouldn't disrespect her or sully the memories of their night together by picking up some lookalike in a bar only to take her home and try to convince himself that it was really Jess he was with.

That was the plan, anyway. Until she'd walked in to the locker room when he was just about to lift his t-shirt over his head, her sharp intake of breath alerting him to both her presence – and her response to his.

What happened after that was admittedly a little bit hazy.

He could recall stalking towards her, grabbing her hips and pulling her towards him while fastening his mouth to hers. A gasp had escaped her as he pressed her against the door but, from the way she wound her arms around his neck and willingly let him hitch her up to wrap her legs around his waist, he was pretty sure it wasn't due to pain no matter how loud it had sounded when her back had hit the door.

One of them – Jess, he suspected – had had the foresight of securing the lock on the door, ensuring no interruptions. Becker was certain the thought hadn't even crossed his mind, given how all his focus had zeroed in on her and his sudden desire to rid them both of the clothes that kept him from feeling her against him again.

The buttons of her blouse scattered in all directions when he grew tired of fumbling with them and decided to simply tear the shirt. Any protest Jess might've had was lost in a throaty moan when he latched onto one of her breasts through the lacy cup of her bra, alternately suckling and biting until she had no choice but to tangle her hand in his hair and arch her spine. He smiled, smug and satisfied, and turned his attention to her other breast until she yanked his head back by his hair in a move that should've been painful but somehow only made him want her more, kissing him fiercely, her tongue duelling with his for dominance.

While he was distracted with taking back control of the kiss, grabbing fistfuls of her hair to hold her in place, Jess sneakily snaked a hand between them, lowering the zipper of his trousers and slipping her hand inside. A hiss escaped him when her hand closed around him, stroking him firmly until he broke away, gasping, letting his head rest in the crook of her neck as his hips jerked against her.

"Jess." Her name was torn from his throat, desperate and needy.

"Mmhmm?" She nibbled lightly on his earlobe before soothing it with her tongue, lips curving up when he groaned and tightend his hold on her hips. "Is there something you want, Captain?" She panted into his ear.

Deciding turn about was fair play, he slid his own hand under her skirt, fingertips tracing the smooth skin of her thigh before slipping underneath the lace of her knickers, stroking her before pushing first one, then two fingers into her.

As Jess threw her head back, her swollen lips parting on a gasp, Becker fastened his mouth to her neck, not caring if he marked her – in fact, the thought that he might only made him suck harder, teeth grazing her skin.

She was his, as much as he was hers, and if he happened to leave a visible sign that said as much... Well. Accidents did happen...

After a while of teasing each other – tormenting each other – he ended up setting her down reluctantly and only then so they could rid themselves of the clothes remaining between them. He kicked off his shoes, not caring where they landed, his trousers and boxer shorts following suit. His t-shirt, he belatedly realised, was as much a casualty of their frenzied activities as her blouse, already torn along the seam when he managed to get it over his head and cast if off to the side. 

Jess's skirt pooled at her feet and she deftly stepped out of it and her heels as Becker watched. Her bra and ripped blouse were shed quickly and he closed the gap between them to help rid her of her last item of clothing.

His hands lingered on her hips, pulling her against him again as he lowered his head to kiss her. He was determined to keep the kiss light and undemanding but when she bit down on his bottom lip and soothed the sting with her tongue, he couldn't help but be drawn back into a whirlwind of need and desire.

Lifting her easily, he kept on kissing her as he carried her to the showers, his early thoughts of cold water replaced with images of hot water and steam and Jess's body wrapped around his as he pressed her against the cool, water-slickend tile.

Since she wasn't protesting, he decided that the plan was a good one.

The water was hot but not too hot, falling against his back and shoulders as he kissed her beneath the warm spray. Steam billowed around them, causing droplets of moisture to bead against her skin. He dipped his head as she wrapped her legs around his middle, his tongue darting out to taste the skin of her collarbone.

He lifted his head to look at her when he felt her position herself against him and he held her gaze as he pushed into her, her chest heaving against his as her fingernails dug into the muscles of his back and shoulders. Unable to resist, he leaned in to kiss her, tightening his arm around her lower back as she arched into him.

"Why did we wait so long to do this again?" He asked against her lips, tearing his mouth away to kiss his way down her neck.

"Your fault," Jess declared, crossing her legs behind him, heels digging into his arse until he was as fully seated as he could get, drawing answering moans from them both. When he lifted his head, an eyebrow arched, she smiled at him, the expression on her face affectionate. "I knew you'd need time to get used to the idea, Becker, but I didn't think it'd take you this long to accept it. Not that I was expecting you to jump me in the locker room but I can't say I have any complaints."

"You knew this was going to happen?" He didn't know why he was surprised; there were a lot of things Jess seemed to know before anyone else did.

"What, that you'd realise you're as crazy about me as I am about you?" When he merely nodded in agreement with her assessment, she smiled at him shyly, something he found endearing given how intimately joined they currently were. "I'd really hoped you would."

Left with no choice but to kiss her sweetly, Becker shifted his hips as much as their position would allow, pulling out of her only to push back in, smirking at the moan that escaped her and seemed to bounce off the tiles around them. "Could've helped me realise sooner, Jessica," he panted against her skin, setting a slow rhythm she did her best to match.

"Thought spending the night together – oh, god, yes, like that – might've been a big enough clue." Her legs tightened around him and she pushed away from the wall, rocking her hips and tilting them towards him until she achieved just the right angle that made them both groan aloud. "We can discuss it later, yeah?"

"Hmm." He was already beyond verbalisation, focusing instead on his new mission to send her careening over the edge before him. 

Bracing himself with an arm around her, he pressed her back against the tiled wall of the cubicle, covered her mouth with his, and slid a hand between them, rolling her clit between his forefinger and thumb until she was gasping, panting, writhing and crying out something that might have once been his name.

The sensation of her muscles clenching around him was enough to make him join her and Becker let his head fall to rest against her shoulder as he emptied himself inside her. The scent of her brought back memories of that night, of the hours they'd spent getting to know each other in the most intimate of ways, and he knew he couldn't go another three weeks without having her again.

Hell, he wasn't sure he could go three hours without feeling and seeing and hearing her splinter apart because of him, convinced he'd found an addiction no therapy or rehab would ever be able to cure. Not that he thought he'd be interested if they could.

Jess let her legs drop from around him and stood, a little unsteadily he was satisfied to see, leaning heavily against the wall. He shut off the water, leaving them with only the bare minimum of steam floating around their cooling bodies. 

"Are you going to run away now and pretend this didn't happen?" Her voice, though quiet, seemed loud in the otherwise empty room.

"You're the one who left last time," Becker pointed out. He let his palms rest against the tiles either side of her head, his body only inches away from hers.

The woman in front of him rolled her eyes. "You turned your back on me, Becker, what was I supposed to think? You couldn't have made it any clearer that you wanted me to leave unless you'd thrown me out into the hallway, and chucked my clothes out after me."

Thinking back, it was probably true; he remembered being overwhelmed by his response to her and had needed to put some space between them. Turning his back on her, trying to pretend she wasn't there, had been his attempt at doing that. When he'd woken up after falling asleep, he'd turned around and reached for her only to be bitterly disappointed that she wasn't there waiting.

"Will you come home with me tonight?" He asked her instead of apologising, leaning in to kiss her sweetly when she only gazed up at him with those impossibly big, impossibly blue eyes of hers. "And stay for breakfast in the morning?"

"Just breakfast?" Jess asked, sounding wary. "This isn't... I can't do the no strings thing, Becker. Not with anyone, probably, but definitely not with you. If all you want is sex..."

"I want you. All of you." He kissed her again, a little firmer, a little desperately if he was honest with himself. "I need _you_ , Jess. Come home with me, and stay."

He didn't specify how long he wanted her to stay, but Jess seemed to accept it. Becker was glad; he thought he'd give it a little longer before he clarified that he meant to add 'forever' to his request.

They dressed slowly, sheepishly, each needing to dip into their spare clothing supply in their lockers, before leaving the sanctuary of the locker room. They walked side by side, close enough for his arm to accidentally brush hers. By silent agreement, they both got into his truck, leaving her car behind no matter what the gossips might make of it.

As he drove them towards his flat, Becker reached out and clasped her hand in his, holding it against his thigh, confident he'd be waking up with her rather than without her, and hoping he'd continue to do so for a long time to come.


End file.
